


Fault & Failure

by TuridTorkilsdottir



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Boys Kissing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28756050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuridTorkilsdottir/pseuds/TuridTorkilsdottir
Summary: Eivor was devestated by death and duty. There was only one place where he could find peace.
Relationships: Eivor/Tarben (Assassin's Creed)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 53





	Fault & Failure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rising_Phoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rising_Phoenix/gifts).



> Spoiler alert: If you haven't started the "A Brewing Storm" Quest yet you might not want to read any further! If you have or don't mind spoilers - enjoy :)
> 
> I don't really know, where the words came from. I've been playing the game for a while now and was totally affected by the romance option between Eivor and Tarben. And honestly shocked, when Eivor had to kill Dag and the task of saving Sigurd was weighing him down. To ease my mind, I wrote this.
> 
> "Ten times the weight" by Kensington was my second inspiration (listen! <3)
> 
> It's short and probably the first thing I wrote in over a year. English is not my native language. If you find mistakes in grammar or vocabulary, feel free let me know.
> 
> I dedicate this to my friend Rising_Phoenix, who wrote so many wonderful stories for me already <3
> 
> Visit twitter.com/TeamTarvor for more content ♥️

Restless. Turning from one side to the other, he could not find sleep. The death of his friend was a burden too heavy for his shoulders. He had killed him. In a fight that should not has happened. A fight that probably could have been prevented, if he had treated him differently in the past weeks, if he had listened to him more closely. The fault was his alone and the pain inside him was worse than anything he had ever felt before. A scar that would never heal.

And tomorrow, battle awaits him. He needed to rest. But the voices in his head did not allow him to calm. What if he would fail? What if he could not find him, his brother. If he could not keep his promise to bring him back? If he was dead already or crippled so badly, that his life was not worth living anymore? Or what if he himself would die? Vanished nameless in a meaningless battle in some foreign land. Would anyone care? Would his failure and the murder of his friend be his only legacy? Would he be forgotten?

With a deep sigh, he sat up on his bed, rubbing his face, watching the countless scars on his chest and arms shimmer in the smooth light of the candles. Stories of fights and battles written into his flesh. He would gain new ones tomorrow. If he survived…

“Arg!”, he yelled, throwing the next best thing, a book, against the wooden wall of his room, earning a skeptical look from the white wolf lying next to his bed. Sighing again, he stood up.

“Sorry, Mouse”, he said, stroking the soft pale fur. He used to smile regarding the stupid name that one of the settlement’s children has given the animal. But not today.

The walls around him seemed to come closer by the minute, the heat of the fireplace took away his breath. Air. He needed fresh air. He put on his cloak and stepped outside the longhouse into the night.

Casting a glance on the settlement below him. Ravensthorpe. The place he called home. The place that _felt_ like home. It has only been a year, but he could not imagine living anywhere else again.

Taking a deep breath, he started walking down the hill, letting his feet decide where to go. Was he still welcome here, though? After all, that happened. Tomorrow, he could lose it all. His life, his home, his…

“Eivor.”

He stopped by the sound of his name, recognizing the voice immediately. A deep, voluminous one, which still, after so many moons, caused goosebumps on his skin. Made his heart skip a beat and his stomach ache – in a good way.

Looking up he met a pair of brown eyes. Dark soil, nearly black in the darkness. And soft lips saying “I was eager to see you.”

And suddenly, he found himself broken down on the floor. His knees could not carry the weight any longer. Shaking hands dug into the ground, moistened by a few silent tears.

“Eivor, love”, was all the brown-eyed whispered when he kneeled down to embrace him, save him with his calm kindness. Bearing his weakness, as if it was nothing to be ashamed of.

“I killed him”, said Eivor hoarsely after a while of silence. “I killed my friend. I… failed my brother. Failed all of you.”

“No”, said the other with a hint of a warm smile. “You defended yourself. You did, what was necessary. And you will do so tomorrow. Come.”

With that, he helped him back to his feet, took his hand and led him to his house. Down the hill, next to the river. Only now Eivor realized that it was the very way his feet had started earlier.

Because this was his real home. _He_ was his home. Tarben. The man who calls him “Love”. The man he loved.

They walked beside each other. So close that even the chill air found no space between them. Quietly.

When they arrived at the small wooden house, still silent, Eivor went directly around the fireplace, sat down onto the bed and took off his coat.

“You were in a hurry?”, Tarben asked, sounding quite a bit amused and passed him a mug of ale.

He earned a confused look, before Eivor realized that he forgot to put on his tunic and sat there in pants and boots only. “Ah. Ja, sorry.”

“Well, I don’t object.”

A short blithe moment, before fault and fear covered everything again.

“I don’t know what to do”, Eivor said, leaning forward, hiding his face in his hands.

Tarben kneeled down on the floor before him. “Remember, when we first met? I never wanted to fight again. Yet I had to. One last time. I am free now, thanks to you. Tomorrow’s fight is inevitable. But if you wish, it could be your last. You don’t need to fight anymore.”

“Fighting is all I can do”, sighed Eivor and looked up.

“That’s not true. You’re quite a good fisherman.”

He chuckled at that. Tarben smiled, too, but then his face turned stern. “I’m serious, love. If you want to leave all this behind, I will follow you. Wherever you will go. Just promise me something, Eivor. Whatever happens tomorrow. If you find Sigurd or not. If you win this battle or lose. Come back to me.”

“I can’t promise you that.”

“But you will try”, Tarben demanded, while putting his hands around the other's face.

And after they got lost in each other’s eyes for a moment, dark soil meeting clear blue water, he kissed him. Careful, soft, merely a touch of his lips.

When they parted, the forehads still in touch, Eivor whispered: “I’ll try…”

Tarben took a deep breath. His eyes were closed now, the hands still embracing the other’s face. “I want you.”

And with that, they kissed again. Fierce this time, fast, almost desperate. Their tongues meeting under shaking breath. Moaning. Touching. Feeling each other’s bare skin. When Eivor sat down on Tarben’s lap to consume him, all of him, there was no place left for worries and doubts. In this very moment, he was free.

Just before the first ray of sunlight, the last weapons and shields had been brought to the longship already. The shipyard was crowded with men, women and children bidding their farewells. They had come to this land to settle down, to find peace. Yet today they had to be Vikings again. Hated and feared by the Saxons. Today, they would kill, destroy and plunder. And, with fate on their side, they would be able to rescue their Jarl Sigurd and bring him back home.

“I’m sure you will succeed”, said Randvi, Sigurds wife, to Eivor and touched his shoulder for some comfort.

“I have to”, he replied quietly.

Randvi nodded sadly, aware of his burden. She hugged him tightly, revealing her racing heart. A while ago, he had clarified, that all he could offer her was friendship. For she was his brother’s wife and he cared for someone else. Realizing, how hard she tried to suppress her feelings, he felt cruel.

But when she released him, focusing something behind them, she smiled and said: “Don’t forget to say goodbye.”

Eivor turned around and spotted him immediately. Tarben. He was standing some meters away from the crowd, his arms crossed. He had never been there before to see him off, as they used to bid their farewells the night before the departure.

“What are you waiting for?”, Randvi scolded him gently and pushed him away.

She was right. Facing a battle, there was no time for hesitation and insecurities. He walked through the crowd quickly, almost running, until he faced the huge man, who was at least one head taller than him.

Dark soil meeting clear blue water.

“Come back to me, love”, said the deep, voluminous voice, broken.

“I’ll try”, Eivor assured hoarsely, resting his forehead against Tarben’s wide chest, his arms closing around him.

Only a moment, before Tarben bent over to cover his lips with his own. Desperate kisses, a single tear. The foreheads still in touch when their mouths separated.

“If I don't return… will you remember me?”, Eivor whispered.

“Forever, love.”

One last kiss and Eivor walked away, heading to the longship. He did not care about the looks around him. Some knowing, others surprised. He focused on what lay before him. He needed to find and bring back his brother. Maybe he would fail. Maybe he would return home without him. Maybe he would not return at all.

But even if death awaits him, he was not afraid. He would not be forgotten.


End file.
